The Most Noble Order of the Table
by elecktrum
Summary: A tale of how King Edmund the Just became Sir Edmund, Knight of the Order of the Table.
1. Chapter the First: Departure

**The Most Noble Order of the Table**

By elecktrum

Standard disclaimers apply. I own little and make nothing.

Author's note: The only map of Narnia that I have is a delightful poster published in 1972 by MacMillian. I've relied upon that for the geography in this story, taking some license with smaller details. I know the Hill of the Stone Table wasn't referred to as Aslan's How by CS Lewis until _Prince Caspian_, but for the sake of this story and my take on Narnia, I'm using the name at the start of the Golden Age. I'm also aware that in _The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe _it was Aslan who knighted Edmund, but I didn't think it was fair that Peter got a whole chapter devoted to his knighting and Edmund barely got a footnote. This is my version of events, and all mistakes are mine.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

Chapter the First: Departure

"I'm going with you."

"Ed..."

I crossed my arms over my chest and lowered my head, stubborn to the last, and braced myself for the inevitable argument I knew I had already won. I think Peter suspected as much himself because he features softened a bit.

We each had our roles, we kings and queens of Narnia. Peter, without doubt, was the leader. He always has been and he excels at it. I didn't think there lived a being in this country - myself included - that wouldn't follow him anywhere, even if he charged straight into the Eastern Sea or jumped off a cliff. Susan was the nurturer, not just of her siblings but of all her subjects. She was the peace maker, though I couldn't help but think that too often she chose the easiest path to end a conflict, never seeming to learn that quick and easy are not necessarily best. Lucy was our healer, our joy. She brought laughter the same way sunlight brings warmth.

And me? I was the planner, the watcher, the one who stood back and listened. Yes, I had learned to listen, though not necessarily to Peter. I had always been the one in the family to see deeper meaning in the things around us, things Peter would miss but instantly comprehend when pointed out to him. Having a Centaur for a tutor had honed this skill of mine to a point as keen as my sword and already my brother depended on me to be his eyes and ears. I didn't think he ever forgot I was a king as well as he, but he never, never forgot I was his little brother. Peter had always been protective of us all. My being severely injured in battle rattled him more than even he realized, but I refused to allow his instincts to smother me, either.

"Why don't you want me along?"

"It's not that at all. I'm just...I'm afraid of you getting hurt. I couldn't bear it."

I couldn't keep the sour expression off my face. "As if I could bear it if you got hurt? I'm going."

He gave me a look that melted my heart. I knew exactly what he was thinking: me, bloody, stabbed through the gut and spine, gasping for breath as I lay dying. I would give anything erase that memory, but I would not give in. I was just selfish enough never to want to face such a sight myself. Peter was not alone in being protective. Besides, Susan would kill me if I let him run off on his own.

"Please, Edmund."

"Peter, on our coronation day Aslan associated each of us with a point on the compass. Remember?"

"Of course."

"Have you looked at a map of our kingdom lately? Do you think it was just chance that Aslan put Lucy and Susan to the east and south and you and me to the north and west?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, and I could tell by his tone he'd never really given the subject much thought.

"The Eastern Sea and Archenland are our best protection. He's faced we kings towards Narnia's enemies and put our sisters at our backs so they would be safe. I'm a king of Narnia. I'm going with you."

**OoOoOoOoOo**

Not for the first time, I wished he would listen. Well, no, he did listen, he just didn't obey. Since he was a child my brother Edmund had always been a force unto himself: smart, clever, and direct. He was my balance, my bulwark, and the burr under my saddle.

Cyn, one of the Gryphon scouts, reported early in the morning that a few remnants of Jadis's army had been seen west of Aslan's How. In the seven months since we were crowned there had been pockets of resistance lead by the Fell Beasts of the White Witch's forces. We were busy, very busy, sorting them out. In the cold weather it was easy to persuade the girls to stay here at Cair Paravel and run things, but Edmund, determined to prove himself, insisted on coming along every time. I wished he could see he didn't need to prove himself, not to me. Quite the opposite, in fact, since I was the one that couldn't get a decent night's sleep until he moved into my chambers. He never complained, never offered empty advice, he simply instructed his valet to move his things into my room one night when I was up far too late. I was fourteen years old and the High King of Narnia. Sir Peter Wolfsbane, killer of Maugrim, the captain of Jadis' secret police. And if I didn't hear Edmund breathing every night I was plagued by nightmares. If it hadn't happened to me I probably would have thought it was silly. It _was_ silly, since I knew he was perfectly fine, but we'd shared a room all our lives. We had never been apart. True to form, he never said a word about it, just gave me what I needed. He was an absolute brick.

And now, once again, he had pointed out the obvious and made perfect sense as he did it. When did my little brother get so wise? Was he always this way and I just never noticed? Or was it something about Narnia that had changed him?

I sighed, defeated, and rang the bell on the table for a page. Immediately a large, silver tabby Cat hurried into the room and jumped neatly onto the table, careful not to step on the maps.

"Majesties?" she asked. She had the lisp typical of the smaller Talking Cats.

"Marin, please inform General Oreius that my royal brother will accompany us and to prepare accordingly."

"Right away, Sire."

"Marin?" asked Edmund.

She turned, purring. Clearly she liked Edmund. "King Edmund?"

He smiled at her and I could tell he was very tempted to scratch under her chin like he used to do to our grandmother's cat, but we've learned not to take such liberties with our subjects. I thought Marin would make an exception in my brother's case, however.

"Please get word to Phillip as well, if he'll come along. He may be out to pasture."

"I will see to it myself, Majesty." He thanked her and she ran out on silent paws. When we were alone again Edmund turned to me, scratching his head and looking as if he was trying to remember something important.

"So...where are we going?"

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

"You'll watch over him?"

"Yes, Susan."

"Guard his back?"

"Yes, Susan. Would you like me to tuck him in at night as well?"

She made a face at me, exasperated by my tone, but really, she was the exasperating one. I deliberately heaped on the formalities we were slowly learning in Cair Paravel's court as I added, "And, truly, sister, your concern over my own well-being touches me profoundly."

"Don't be like that, Ed! You'll notice I'm here talking to you, not talking to Peter."

"Why, yes, I did notice. I take it Lucy is saying the same thing about me to Peter?"

She smacked my arm lightly. "I _know_ you can take care of yourself. Peter's the one that needs watching, not you."

"He's our brother and our High King. Trust me, Su, no one wants to keep him safer than I do. I promise you I'll guard his back."

"Promise me _you'll_ be careful as well."

I smiled to reassure her. "I will."

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

We left Cair Paravel before dawn the next morning. This was the fourth time since the Battle of Beruna that we set out on such a mission and it did not get easier with repetition. I kissed Susan and Lucy and they both kissed Edmund good-bye. It was always a strange feeling, this moment of parting, and I thought my sisters felt it, too.

"Don't get hurt," Susan ordered, producing an exasperated sigh from Edmund. I didn't have to look to know he was rolling his eyes.

"Yes, Mum," he droned. Susan scowled good-naturedly and Lucy giggled.

"Let's go," I said, wanting the girls to get back inside where it was warm. There was frost on the ground still, a reminder that winter was not far behind us yet.

It was a rather large group that set out. Edmund rode Phillip and I was on Flisk the Unicorn. He was eager for another fight, still offended at having been shot by an arrow during the Battle of Beruna. Two Gryphons and an Eagle had gone on ahead as scouts and with us were six Centaurs, a dozen Fauns, as many Satyrs, five big Cats, and an undetermined number of Dogs. I wasn't sure if Oreius had included the Dogs or they had included themselves, but they were so excited for the first few hours they raced around, constantly talking, until, much to the amusement of Sharet, the Cheetah captain, they wore themselves out completely. Of all the Talking Animals in Narnia, I never met any that talked more, with less to say, than Dogs.

As we rode through the forest many Trees woke up and greeted us as we passed and Talking Animals of all sorts joined us. They would walk with us a little while, mostly chatting with me or Edmund, before returning to the woods, not wanting to hinder a war party, though we politely turned down numerous invitations to tea. It was always like this when we left the castle, though Edmund and I got off lightly by comparison to Susan and Lucy. If our subjects loved me and Ed, they adored our sisters and turned out in droves to meet them. I was glad the girls were back at Cair Paravel. It was bitterly cold out here and the weather was not promising.

Edmund began telling me about his classes with his tutor, Cheroom, and what he had been learning about Narnia's laws and history. It sounded more interesting than the statecraft and diplomacy my own tutors were pounding into my skull. Somehow my brother had decided the best teacher for anyone who was going to be called 'the Just' would be a Centaur. After consulting Oreius he'd sent word to the Centaurs asking them to choose the wisest of their number to come to Cair Paravel to teach him. The result was Cheroom, Oreius's maternal great-uncle, a very wise, very witty old Centaur who told the most marvelous stories and had made a very profound impact on Edmund, his attitude, and his outlook.

"Cheroom wants me to attend Parliament when we return," Ed said. "He thought we'd all do well to attend."

"Parliament?" I echoed, startled. "We have one?" This was the first I'd heard about it, so it couldn't be a very powerful body. Beyond the ring of Fauns and Satyrs around us, I saw Oreius listening. He was rightly proud of his uncle teaching a king.

"Of course," Edmund answered smugly.

I could tell he was up to something and went along with it. "What do they do?"

"Talk, apparently, but not much else."

"What?"

He laughed, smiling. "Owls, Peter. A Parliament of Owls."

"Very funny, Ed." I scowled, trying not to laugh with no success. Flisk snorted and tossed his head, his indigo horn flashing in the wane light. He was amused by our conversation, and Oreius smirked.

"Your face was for a moment."

"So what do Owls talk about?"

He raised his hands in a helpless gesture. "I can't begin to imagine."

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Teasing Peter was a thing not to be resisted under any circumstances. He was always so serious and I've gotten better at making him smile. We had been at odds too long with the war back home and Father being away and the horrid time I had in school. There were so many things in my life I resented and I took them all out on my brother with petty, misplaced jealousy. I saw that when we reached Narnia, when I realized how awfully I had behaved. I had learned a lot of lessons in the past months, and since our coronation I was determined not only to be worthy of the title Aslan had bestowed on me, but to be worthy of sitting on a dais next to Peter the Magnificent.

Despite the fact that we were a war party on our way to quell some remnants of Jadis's army, I was happy. Peter was beside me and he seemed more my brother now than ever before. I caught his eye and he smiled back, that warm, kind smile usually reserved for Lucy that spoke of nothing but love. He was more apt to show affection now and I found I didn't mind it when he pulled me into a hug or planted a quick kiss on my head. He would kiss Susan just for being pretty and Lucy just to make her giggle. Such a good person. Such a good king.

"Majesties," Oreius greeted, trotting up between us. I recognized that tone of voice with dread. It was the voice he used when he was teaching us. We couldn't escape even here. "Draw your swords. Shields up. Ride like that until I say otherwise. It will build your stamina and balance."

He ignored the suffering looks we exchanged as we obeyed. He really was an excellent teacher, though a day off here or there would have been a rare treat, especially since we were heading towards a fight. Oreius was not one for wasting a moment, nor allowing us to waste one, either.

I tightened my thighs for balance as I pulled the shield off my back. Phillip grunted. "I won't drop you," he promised.

"I know," I replied, lightening up on his ribs. "Sorry."


	2. Chapter the Second: Journey

Chapter the Second: Journey

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

We camped not far from the Great River that first night. Tents were set up, dinner cooked, and sentries posted. When we first went on these missions Ed and I had volunteered to stand sentry duty with the rest of the soldiers. Celer, the Faun captain, pointed out that our hearing wasn't half as good as any of the native Narnians and we didn't have a fraction of their training. He didn't say it, but I know he also didn't want to run any risks with our lives. So we let them do their jobs and made it a point not to compound their duties by wandering off or doing anything too foolish to be corrected.

Both Edmund and I were tired out by the long ride and by the cold of early spring. He retired almost immediately after we ate and I stayed up long enough to help Oreius figure our route for the morning. I was too tired to have any useful input, but I listened and nodded, trusting in these warriors who had saved my life and helped keep my brother and sisters safe, before bidding them a good night and turning in.

"Peter?"

I woke up with a start, automatically reaching for my sword even as I registered that it was Edmund. He knew enough not to stand in range until I was awake, fortunately.

"What is it?" I asked, sitting up partially. "Everything alright?"

"I'm freezing," he said, a tremor in his voice and his teeth chattering despite the fur blanket wrapped around him. This wasn't an uncommon occurrence, and I responded as I'd been responding since he could walk.

"Come on, then," I said, shifting over on the wide hammock and lifting the blankets. He spread the fur atop my bedding and crawled into the warmth. Fully dressed as he was, he really _was_ cold and I could feel him quaking as I draped the covers over us both. It was a little crowded but cozy, and I knew at least now he'd get some sleep. He was beastly on the mornings when he didn't get enough rest.

"How can you be so warm all the time?" he whispered. He faced me as he usually did and I wrapped my arms around him. He was a scrawny, slight thing. I had to get him to eat more.

"How come you're always cold?" I replied, teasing him. He was silent for too long. "Ed?"

His voice was still shaky, though not all from his chattering teeth. "I think...I think _she_ did this to me. I never used to be cold like this, remember? Not since..."

I tightened my hold on him, wishing I could break her hold at the same time. "She's gone, Ed. And I'm here. I'll keep you warm. Warmer than she could ever make you cold."

I could hear the smile in his voice as he answered, "I know. Peter?"

"Mmm?"

"How...how do you face battle? I mean, how can you face it?"

This was unexpected and I opened my eyes in surprise. I had to think before answering. "I faced Maugrim twice. Both times he tried to convince me not to fight, that this wasn't our land and battle, and that I didn't have it in me to be king and to do what needed to be done. That second time, he tried to kill Su and Lucy...Aslan and I had just been talking about family and I realized I _did_ have the strength to protect them."

"And Narnia?"

I shook my head. "I didn't think I could really do it until you said you believed in me."

"I always will."

"I know. And that's why I can face battle."

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

I awoke the next morning to voices: Peter, Oreius, Sharet, Cyn, and Manon, the other Gryphon scout. I was still in Peter's hammock, cocooned in all the blankets. Peter, Aslan bless him, never made an issue of letting me sleep alongside him and never said a word to the girls. Now that I'm older I wouldn't have dreamed of it back home, but like all things in Narnia, even the cold seems more intense and deep and penetrating. My time with the White Witch seemed to have touched something inside me, a chill I couldn't quite shake off, so when I got cold it was all-consuming and painful. Luckily for me, my brother didn't mind sharing his bed, his blankets, or his warmth. That was something I always envied about Peter - he could do kind and gentle things without ever seeming girlish. It was one thing for Peter Pevensie of Finchley to share a bunk with his little brother, but something different entirely for High King Peter to made certain his fellow king didn't suffer unduly from the cold, and I was grateful for the distinction.

"Edmund! Are you awake yet?" called Peter from outside the tent. Had I just thought him kind?

"No!" I moaned back, pulling the blankets over my head. Sharet let out a purr that was the Cat equivalent of a laugh and both Gryphons let out breathless chuckles.

"I'll send Phillip in to get you up!" threatened my brother.

"I'm up!" I answered. Phillip had roused me exactly once before, and that by pulling the blankets off of me and tickling my ear with his nose. I had no desire to repeat the incident and so reluctantly I threw back the covers and grouped for my boots and cloak. I must have looked awful when I stepped out of the tent because a Satyr immediately fetched me some steaming tea and no one expected any pearls of wisdom out of me for some time. Even Peter looked a bit guilty about rousing me and asked someone to fetch us something hot to eat.

The day was similar to yesterday except that fewer Talking Animals and Magical Creatures turned out to greet us and the weather threatened to make our lives truly miserable. The Trees were thicker and mostly evergreens, who tended to be grumpier than deciduous Trees. With no distractions, we made good time, following a trail along the banks of the Great River. Neth, son of the River God Callum, greeted us when we paused to get water. Neither Peter nor I had ever met a River God, just countless Naiads, and I was impressed by his courtly manners. He didn't stay long and seemed to know our mission, but he did ask us to visit the river again when Narnia was secure.

"When our borders are safe and protected and the last of the White Witch's army are gone, my brother and I intend to tour our whole kingdom," Peter promised, standing on the riverbank beside me. "Our sisters the queens will be with us and we would be honored to entertain you, your noble father the River God, and his people."

Neth was pleased by this and so was I. With Jadis's army still lurking about we had yet to see all of Narnia, though Peter and I had seen far more than Lucy and Susan. We had still to visit Archenland to the south. King Lune's ambassadors were a very jolly lot that understood our need to eliminate any rebel factions wandering about the country before we went visiting the neighbors. Until then, a dialogue was started and we were on excellent terms with Lune and gifts had already been exchanged between us. But to see all of Narnia...the notion thrilled me.

"Going vacationing, are we?" I asked Peter as we returned to our mounts.

He smiled. "Sorry, Ed. I thought of it just then. What do you think?"

"I think it's a brilliant idea."

"Good. You can plan it out."

I swung myself up onto Phillip's back. "Do you actually think either of us will get a word in edgewise once Susan and Lucy hear about it? We'll be lucky if they let us pack our own clothes."

Peter laughed, climbing onto Flisk's bare back with a grace I could only envy. He nodded to Oreius and we set out again, leaving the river behind us as we cut to the west towards Aslan's How.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

We camped half a day's march from our destination after a long day of hard riding. Cyn, Manon, and Alarens, the Eagle, had reported back at different times with their findings. They had spotted several Fell Beasts in the mountains ahead of us: rogue Cats, a Werewolf, and a Minotaur were among the beasts seen flitting through the trees and surely they knew we were here. Two more Gryphons had joined our party from their nearby aerie and the Dogs were finally calmed down enough to be of use. Oreius set out extra guards and told us to sleep with our clothes on and our swords drawn, his standard orders for when things could get dodgy. We were going to leave the encampment here under guard and press on before sunrise again with enough supplies for a few days.

Edmund and I went to bed almost immediately after eating, too weary and numb to keep awake and not about to inflict ourselves on our subjects. I knew we needed to be rested for tomorrow. Our tent was dry and comfortable, though warm only in that there was no wind. Poor Ed never said a word and neither did I, I just lifted the covers and he crawled into my hammock with me. It had been so damp and blustery even I was chilled, so I knew he'd be freezing, especially after wearing armor all day. I was right. I covered his hands with my own, amazed that anyone could be so cold and still function. But he never complained, never asked to be excused from any of the training or work we did, and I found myself filled with pride that this was my brother. Sisters are wonderful and lovely things to have, but in that moment I was so grateful that Edmund was my brother, my friend, and my peer. I knew there wasn't anything I couldn't share with him and I could only hope he felt the same way about me.

He shifted closer, bumping my chin with his forehead.

"Sorry."

"You're getting tall," I whispered, shifting a bit to rest my chin on his head like I used to do when he was a baby. "You barely fit any more."

"I'm catching up to you," he murmured back, and yawned.

I couldn't help but yawn as well before I said, "I have a three-year head start."

He snorted a laugh and nestled closer, falling asleep almost immediately. I listened to the sound of his breathing a few minutes before following him.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

The next morning did not come easily for me. Even at the best of times, I didn't sleep well on these expeditions despite Peter's efforts. I had to force myself to be alert, but I had more trouble forcing myself to be pleasant. Peter rode beside me, occasionally talking with Sharet and Kast, a Panther under her command. He knew better than to try to engage me in conversation right now and so just let me be. Everyone followed Peter's example, knowing I'd come around sooner rather than later if left to myself. Besides, I had a lot to think about from our brief conversations the last two nights and I wanted time to ponder what Peter had said. This way I was guaranteed at least half an hour of being left alone with my thoughts.

"Good morn," I eventually said to him.

Peter grinned at me as if something was very amusing. "Just wake up, did we?"

I made a face at him and then ignored him as I leaned forward a bit. "Good morn, Phillip."

"King Edmund," said my steed. I suspect he thought I had fallen asleep as I rode.

"Have you had breakfast?" I asked.

"I have, Your Highness. Oats and spring grass. A capital start to the day."

"Lucky," I muttered, suddenly starving.

"Field rations for us, Ed," sympathized my brother.

I didn't complain. In Narnia the field rations taste better than the finest meal I've ever had back in England. Everything was better here: the clothes, the music, the people, the water, the air . . . me.

I drew a deep breath, sitting up straighter. I gave myself a little shake, then smiled at Peter. He was watching me out of the corner of his eye and he returned my smile.

"Good morn to you, little brother."

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

One of the Gryphons was waiting for us when we reached the valley to Aslan's How, deep in conversation with several Squirrels. Squirrels are funny to talk to since their mouths run as fast as their thoughts and their thoughts seem to run in multiple directions at once. I had to give Manon credit because there were at least five of them chattering at him simultaneously. Edmund, Oreius and I approached him, leaving Flisk and Phillip to graze. The Squirrels chattered quietly amongst themselves, clearly excited by a royal visit to their valley and barely able to contain themselves. They darted about, ran up and down the trees, and teased each other by throwing twigs.

"Majesties, General," said Manon, bowing his head. Gryphons always sound breathless when not in flight. "The rebel band reported numbers at least twenty large Animals and Beasts. They've moved eastwards and were seen five miles southwest of the Stone Table."

The words sent a chill through me. I had never seen the Stone Table, but I had heard about it at length. It was there that Aslan had sacrificed himself to save Edmund.

Then I remembered that Edmund didn't know what had happened there. No one knew the whole truth except my sisters and me. I said nothing, but something in my expression betrayed me and Oreius gave me a penetrating look.

"Majesty?"

I tried keep my voice even. "We were heading towards the Stone Table, were we not?"

"Yes, Sire."

"Then lets get there. We can rest there, then press on."

"Peter?" Edmund asked in a low tone, leaning close.

"Later," I replied just as quietly.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Something was bothering Peter, something he knows, but for the life of me I couldn't figure out what it could be. I was fully resolved to hold him to that promise of later. In truth I probably would not have waited, but just then a dozen or more Squirrels came bounding through the trees towards us, all of them making a racket.

"What is it?" I asked as they assembled at our feet.

"A gift, good kings," said a gray Squirrel the size of spaniel. He held out a large walnut. "The finest from our stores."

"For us?" Peter smiled in delight and knelt down. He held out both hands for the walnut, saying, "Only if we won't deprive you, cousin."

Another Squirrel held up a nut to me and like my brother, I knelt down to their level to accept it. "We have an abundance," promised my Squirrel in a squeaky voice. "The summer past was a good year in every way."

"Thank you," I said. In moments our hands were filled to overflowing with walnuts. Before we could properly thank them the delirious Squirrels made their way back into the woods, producing enough noise for twice their number as they went. Manon shook his head, clearly glad he wasn't a king, and launched back into the air. We watched him fly off, then we both looked at the bounty in our hands. I looked at Peter, he looked at me, and we both said,

"Let's eat."

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Poor Oreius. The good general had dealt with many things and faced many foes in his life, but I don't think anything could prepare him for the rampaging appetite of a teenage boy, much less two boys. It's true that Centaurs can eat a great deal, but they're very large creatures – the only time I could look him directly in the eye was from Flisk's back. I know he was astonished by the amount of food Ed and I put away the first time we set out to quell the remnants of Jadis's troops. By comparison, our sisters ate like birds. Constant hunger was just a state of being for us. It took a lot of energy learning to be a warrior and a king. I think Oreius had figured that out, which was why he voiced no comment when Ed and I tucked in as if we hadn't eaten in a week.

Despite my anxiety about reaching the Stone Table, I had to laugh at Edmund as he improvised a nutcracker. The glove on our sword arm is armored while our shield arm is just leather. He held a nut in his left hand and smacked it with the back of his right, neatly breaking it. When I imitated him Oreius cast us both a look and walked off, trying to hide his amusement.

"It's later," said Edmund, cracking the last nut and sifting through the shells. We had made short work of the Squirrels' gift.

I dusted off my hands and stood. "Not yet."

He gave me a look that was entirely Edmund Randall Pevensie. Luckily I was fairly immune to his ire, having dealt with it all his life and most of my own. I held out my hand to help him up.

"I'll tell you," I promised. "We just need to be alone for me to say anything."

He glanced at the Trees, understanding, and his features softened. Gripping my arm, he let me haul him to his feet.

"Peter?" he asked as we made our way back to our mounts.

"Yes, Ed?"

He paused, looking up at me intensely, searching for something in my expression.

"I'm going to hate this, aren't I?"

I couldn't lie to him. "Maybe. Probably. But don't forget that it's over and that we – and Narnia – are better for it."

His eyes narrowed a bit, but he nodded and we turned back to the waiting soldiers.

"Let's go," he said to Oreius, nudging Phillip to set a brisk pace.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

I wanted to get this over with. Whatever Peter hah to say to me, I wanted it done. I turned things over in my mind, trying to draw connections between the Stone Table and Jadis's words and what little I knew of Aslan's death and rebirth. Cheroom was teaching me to attack such problems logically and I tried that process now. My conclusions were disturbing and, I hoped, wrong.

Were we better for it?

I glanced at my brother, tall and straight on Flisk's bare back. His armor shone even on this overcast day and I wondered if the light came from within him.

If Peter said we were the better for it, then we were. I clung to that thought for the rest of the morning.


	3. Chapter the Third: Discussion

Chapter the Third: Discussion

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

We reached Aslan's How just after noon. The terrain was somewhat familiar now. Ed and I both had traversed this area on foot last year and we weren't all that far from Beruna and the Beavers' house. It was very rocky in this part of Narnia, unlike the smoother, rolling hills by Cair Paravel. Aslan's How was a low valley in the mountains trimmed by tall pines that grew so closely along the path we had to struggle through the branches on several occasions.

We came upon the Stone Table abruptly. A sudden opening in the trees and we stood at the foot of ancient columns, a wide, square platform, and the broken remains of a table made of granite. It wasn't a very large clearing, but something seemed to keep the Trees at bay. The ruins were clear of growth, standing alone on a small rise. Nothing about it was hospitable, at least not when the weather was foul and the wind was cold and damp. We dismounted and while some of the soldiers rested for a few moments, the rest spread out to search for signs of the rebels with the Dogs in the lead.

After fetching Phillip and Flisk some oats, Edmund turned his attention on the ruins. I hung back a moment and watched my brother as he climbed the worn steps to the broken table. I hoped Oreius would understand when I said, "Oreius, I need to speak to my brother for a moment."

The good general could read me like a book and I knew he understood immediately why I needed to speak to Edmund alone. He bowed slightly and answered, "You will have every privacy, Your Majesty. All I ask is for you and King Edmund to keep your hands near your swords, for this place is steeped in the Deep Magic."

"We will," I promised for us both. "Thank you."

He stepped away, ordering the troops back towards the tree line so that no prying or curious ears could overhear what I had to say to Edmund. I could hear Celer setting up a perimeter guard as I walked up the rise. To keep Oreius happy I rested my right hand on my sword belt. I glanced at the surrounding evergreens before I turned all my attention on Edmund, bracing myself for what must come next. He was clearly excited by the ruins, probably reminded, as I was, of the time our Uncle Robert brought us and our older cousins to see Stonehenge and Avebury. That was before the war and Ed had been very little, but I know he remembered it as he circled the shattered Table. I could see his lips moving as he tried to make out the runes etched deeply into the gray stone. He looked up as I climbed the stairs and stood close by him.

"Was it always broken?"

The dank wind whipped our hair and capes about, carrying a scent of pine and mud and rotting leaves. I pointed to the jagged breaks where cleaner, unweathered stone was visible. "No," I said, raising my voice a bit to be heard above the wind. "It broke the morning of the battle."

Edmund stared at me, the confusion in his dark eyes slowly replaced by realization. "Did Aslan break it?"

I shook my head, futilely pushing the hair out of my eyes. "I think it broke itself as part of the Deep Magic that Aslan and Jadis were talking about."

Edmund shivered and I knew it wasn't because of the cold of early spring. His voice was barely audible as he muttered, "When she came for me. For a traitor's blood."

I reached for him, cursing the Witch for the flash of dread I saw in those dark eyes. I put my hand on his shoulder, unable to grip him through his armor like I wanted. "That's over, Ed. But I do need to talk to you, to tell you exactly what happened here and why. Susan and Lucy wanted to do it, but I thought it would be better coming from me, even though I didn't see it."

Edmund looked up at me with a pout very similar to Lucy's. "This is the part I'm going to hate, isn't it?"

I couldn't help but smile a bit as a gust of wind sent our hair dancing. "Yes." I glanced around, but there was no shelter up here but the Table itself. Wrapping my cape around me, I leaned against the broken stone, gesturing Edmund to join me with a nod. I could tell he was troubled as he imitated me, sitting a little further away than I would have liked and keeping his gaze firmly locked on the ground at his feet.

"Keep your hand by your sword, too. Oreius doesn't like it here and we're close by where those Fell Beasts were spotted."

Edmund nodded, automatically resting his hand on the pommel of his sword. His voice was resigned as he asked, "So what happened?"

I took a deep breath. This was not a simple task, but I tried to word it gently. "When Aslan told us Jadis renounced your blood, he had agreed to take your place."

His head snapped up. "But she wanted to kill me!"

I lifted a hand to hush him. "The fact that there was a traitor in Narnia was enough to command a sacrifice here at the Stone Table. The Deep Magic required it. But what the Witch didn't know, and what Aslan did, was the true meaning of Sacrifice. According to Su, Aslan said if a willing victim that has committed no offense takes the place of a traitor, the Stone Table will break and death will be reversed."

As much shocked as horrified, Edmund looked up at me, pain in his dark eyes. "He let her k-k-"

He couldn't finish. I reached for him, gripping him by the elbows. "Ed, he knew what would happen. He did it not just to save you, but to save all of Narnia. So Adam's flesh and Adam's bone sits in Cair Paravel enthroned. Everything that happened _had_ to happen. It all comes back to the prophecy."

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

I turned away, unable to look into Peter's eyes as I tried to come to terms with this knowledge. Peter held my arms, anxious for some type of reaction out of me, understanding and loving and completely without blame. I was glad of his touch. Fresh guilt swept over me despite the words of comfort and forgiveness Aslan had spoken to me when I had been rescued from Jadis's camp. I felt sick and filthy, as I had then. How could anyone as good and strong as Peter stand to touch me, much less be around me? How could anyone as noble and blessed as Aslan offer himself in my place? There was a feeling in the pit of my stomach, the same feeling I'd had in Jadis's castle when Mr. Tumnus realized I'd betrayed him. The feeling I'd had when I had vainly tried to save Sir Giles Fox from being turned to stone. My chest was tight and I felt frozen all the way to the core of my being.

Then something dark and thin lying discarded on the wrecked table caught my attention. I pulled one arm free of Peter's hold and reached for it. Drawing it closer, I realized it was a rope made of braided leather. There were a few hairs of long, golden-brown hair clinging to it.

We both stared at it, and when I finally found the strength to speak my voice sounded hollow to my own ears. "What did they do to him?"

Swallowing hastily, Peter mastered himself before answering. Each word was chosen with care and his voice was gentle. "He let them tie him up. The Witch ordered them to cut off his mane before they dragged him up here. And then she...used a stone knife to kill him."

"And he didn't fight?"

"No. He went willingly."

"Why?"

"To keep his family safe. Because you're part of his family and he loves you. Almost as much as I do, Ed."

I sniffed, feeling tears burn my eyes, fighting for control. I did not want to cry. I was a king. This incident was well behind me, behind us all, Narnia was safe, and I wanted to be strong before my brother the High King. Biting my lip, I raised my head to see Peter's worried expression. He was so anxious that I managed a small smile to reassure him. He let his breath out in a rush -- he'd been holding it –- and he seized me in a tight embrace, our armor connecting with a clang! I hugged him back, glad he had initiated the touch.

"I'm still so sorry," I rasped against his neck. The words weren't nearly enough to express what I really felt.

"I know," whispered Peter, sounding as if his heart was breaking, "and it's done. Just as Aslan said. Just remember it all worked out. Everything's all right, Edmund."

"I - "

I stiffened suddenly, realizing something was very wrong with our surroundings. I raised my head from Peter's shoulder and looked around suspiciously. Alarmed, Peter likewise scanned the woods surrounding the ruins. Where were the soldiers? The Dogs? Where was Oreius?

"Ed?" asked Peter quietly.

"The wind is gone," I whispered.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

I dropped my hand to my sword. Edmund was right. The wind that had been roaring all day was gone. The air seemed thicker and the sky was dark with fast-moving rain clouds. All sound was gone save for our breathing and the grit beneath our boots as we edged closer together.

Edmund's voice was faint. "It's the Trees." He slowly turned around, surveying the tree line around the ruins. "We're surrounded."

It was true. The Stone Table topped a small hill on the floor of the valley. There was a clearing about a hundred yards across at the widest point encompassing the hill. Dense, shadowed forest started just beyond the clearing. Though it was not long past noon, there was no more light than twilight and I couldn't see far into the woods. The darkness was unnatural and malevolent and I heard an echo of Lucy's voice in my memory, "He means the trees."

I drew my sword and Edmund immediately followed suit. The high-pitched peals of our weapons rang out for a moment, then the oppressive silence swept back in.

"Side to side and back to back," I ordered, quoting Oreius's constant litany on how we brothers should always do battle. Neither of us had our shields or helmets. Luckily we had been trained to fight with or without shields and Edmund was actually a better swordsman without one. "You have your dagger?"

"Yes," Edmund said softly, checking at his hip. He edged closer to me, his broadsword at the ready.

I stood straighter, looking back on the spot I had left Oreius only a few minutes ago. "Oreius? Sharet? Celer?"

My voice didn't carry and I knew no one but Edmund heard me.

The only warning I had was Edmund's gasp of, "Peter!" before the enemy was upon us.


	4. Chapter the Fourth: Battle

Chapter the Fourth: Battle

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Hideous forms large and small erupted out of the surrounding woods: Ogres, a Cyclops, fallen Animals, things I'm sure neither of us could name. There were a dozen or more, one a foul, bat-like thing that screamed with a human voice as it flapped awkwardly. They swept out of the shadows from all sides. There was no time to think or plan before the faster beasts reached the platform.

"For Narnia!" screamed Peter, slicing through the thick hide of a Werewolf that was scrambling upwards towards him. It fell back with a shriek.

"Aslan!" I shouted. Three little grass-colored things that barely reached my knees came at me. They wielded nasty, curved blades and looked capable of considerable damage. I didn't hesitate, but cut them down before they could get close enough to me or Peter to use those blades. Another sprang up after them and I sliced it in two.

Peter grunted loudly as he dispatched a Dwarf, then immediately attacked an Ogre wielding an axe. I whirled, bringing my sword down on a Coyote that had snuck across the table towards my brother. The Coyote called me something truly vile. Much as we all hated killing, especially Talking Animals, I didn't waver. I didn't dare. Killing was not easy. It never was, but it was necessary. I hadn't gotten used to it and I hoped and prayed I never did. Still, every battle came down to us or them, just as it had at Beruna. This Coyote not one of our subjects, our beloved cousins. This creature had tried to give Narnia over to the White Witch and was therefore our enemy. My enemy.

And now she was dead.

Peter's Ogre fell back, bleeding greenish blood and cursing kings in general and High Kings in particular before it collapsed. A Cyclops took its place, but Peter was already engaging the bat creature and I lunged forward to cover his back, driving my sword under the Cyclops's iron collar and into his throat. My much smaller size was the only thing that allowed me to get close enough to strike. I jumped out of the way as it fell towards me. Another of the little grass-creatures leaped at me and landed on my arm. It tried to slice me open but was instantly frustrated by my Dwarf-made mail. I let go my sword with one hand just long enough to punch it away. My armored right glove came back bloody.

I looked to Peter. My brother had the screaming bat by the throat, holding it at arm's length just long enough to plunge his sword through the horrid thing's body. He pulled his sword free with a cry of disgust. His face was scratched and bloody. He looked around wildly, searching for me. We were too far apart.

"Edmund!"

He was looking beyond me in horror, his eyes wide. I whirled, swinging my sword blindly in the same motion. I felt the blade connect before I saw the Cougar and a terrific blow landed on my right shoulder. In an instant I felt claws work their way through the tabard and chain mail and leather jerkin and quilted clothes all the way to my skin as the big Cat swiped at me. His claws became entangled in my mail shirt for an instant, locking us together.

"Traitor!" the Cat growled at me, trying to pull me towards his huge teeth. He was scrawny and his breath was foul. "Betrayer!"

"Not anymore!" I screamed right back. We were too close for me to use my sword, so I struck him across the face with my elbow. He howled in pain as metal met flesh and I just hit him again as hard as I could. I barely felt any pain in my shoulder or arm as he shook free and darted away, bowling me over and leaving me with scratch marks to rival Peter's.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

_Move, move, move! Never stop, my kings. Don't give them a still target! Make them come to you. Don't forget to breathe, King Peter, else you'll finish their task for them. You're Human. You move and fight differently from anything else in Narnia be it fair or foul. Use that to your advantage. Keep them off balance. King Edmund, you're small and slight - get inside his defenses! You can use your sword and he can't! There is not a part of you that isn't a weapon but don't ever forget your greatest weapon is your mind. Stay in control when you fight. You can't stop because of any pain or hurt. Stopping in the midst of battle is death! Move! And above all, Your Majesties, keep close to your brother, for each of you is the other's shield._

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Never in life had I been more grateful to a relentless schoolmaster than I was to Oreius. His constant litany was rooted firmly in my subconscious as I fought. At times it seemed as though I was watching myself, so automatic were my actions. The exertion of battle was starting to catch up with me and I made every swing of my blade count. I mortally wounded another Ogre and cut down a Hag before she could pounce on Edmund. A small Dog lunged at me and I let him bite my left arm knowing he wouldn't be able to hurt me through the mail. That brought him close enough for me to use my sword and with a whimper of pain he let go and dropped down. I kicked it away from me, angry and revolted that a Talking Animal would turn on its own land, on Aslan.

And that it would delay me trying to help my brother.

I jumped over the fallen bodies littering the platform and yanked Edmund upright, dragging him with me down the stairs, away from the Stone Table, away from that huge mountain lion. It was more open here and we needed room to fight. Jadis' soldiers weren't well trained for the most part, depending on brute strength and hulking mass rather than any real skill. Still, it was enough, especially since there was just the two of us. There was no sign of our war party, though the Trees were whipping back and forth without any wind. It seemed as if our soldiers were fighting a similar battle.

"You alright?" I panted, looking around furiously.

He answered in gasps. "Scrapes. You?"

"Same," I replied, though my face was burning from where that bat-looking thing had tried to gouge my eyes out and I had taken a staggering blow to the thigh from a Dwarf wielding a club. "To the left," I warned, spotting a Minotaur.

"And to the right," Edmund replied. He drew a deep breath and I did the same as we let lose our battle cries.

"_Narnia!"_

I had never fought such a battle as this, so fast and thick. Even at Beruna there had been pauses, time to catch my breath. The second rank of Fell Beasts set upon us like a tidal wave. As Edmund faced off against a reptilian, snake-like thing, the Minotaur crashed into me with so much force I went down, hitting my head, but I rolled out of the way and onto my feet as his battleaxe shattered the rock where I had been. I slew him from behind before he could reach Edmund, yanking my sword free of his body with so much force I actually smashed the pommel into the face of a Dwarf running up from behind me, dropping him in his tracks. A mangy, rabid-looking Fisher took his place. Beyond it, Edmund whirled, looking for the next attacker and spotting the huge marten.

"Die, upstart!" it hissed at me, swiping its clawed forefoot.

"Not today," I hissed right back. I raised my sword high as if to strike him down. The Fisher lunged to the left, his eyes on my sword, entirely missing Edmund as my brother yanked his dagger free from his belt and imbedded it deeply into the Fisher's body. I killed the Fallen Animal an instant later, feeling sick at having to do so.

"Thanks," I said, stomping on a little creature armed with curved blades that was about to attack Edmund's knee as he retrieved his knife. My metal-shod boots made short work of it. Edmund stood up again and we automatically took fighting stances. We were back to back and the creatures attacking us were now few in numbers. Few, but foul. Exceedingly so. They were short, misshapen mockeries of Nature, like leftover bits and pieces of animals and people cobbled and blended together. I had no idea of what they were or if their kind even had a name. Awful as they were to look upon, they were obscenely strong. If Jadis had more of these in her army, things may have gone differently at Beruna. There were three of them, all armed with iron staves. How do I describe creatures so alien, so strange? Their movements were graceful, their ability to wield the staves was considerable, and something told me they enjoyed inflicting fear and pain. They were as revolting as they were unnatural.

"Whatever you do, Ed, don't let them get between us," I ordered, glancing over my shoulder at him. He swallowed and nodded as the things surrounded us. Only one of them placed himself before me. The other two confronted Edmund.

"They think you're the easier target," I murmured, leaning back a bit so he could feel my presence. "Prove them wrong."

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Oh, Peter, how did you know? How did you always know how to say exactly what I need to hear? At Beruna, the morning we were told Aslan was no more, you were finalizing the battle plans and looked right at me and said, "Edmund, I need you. I need you to protect our rear and cover our retreat." That was all, and I was yours to command. I realized then why such a statement was so different coming from you than anyone else: you had faith in me. Absolute, unwavering faith that regardless of what the world thought about me, I could do what you asked and you trusted me to do what was right.

Like right now.

I am a King of Narnia. King Edmund the Just, brother of High King Peter the Magnificent.

And this day, in my own eyes, I have earned the right to sit beside him in the Castle of the Four Thrones.

The ugly, melted monsters drew slowly closer, stepping over the bodies and weapons of the fallen. They made low, gurgling sounds I could only guess was laughter. They were trying to frighten us. No matter.

I smiled fiercely back at them.

So unexpected was that move that the one on the left hesitated an instant.

I didn't.

Aslan bless my little sister a thousand times over for teaching me how to throw a dagger. I wasn't as good as Lucy, but that didn't matter. I didn't kill the monster on the left, but it staggered when my thrown knife drove through its forearm. I straightaway attacked to the right and Peter went with me, his sword singing shrilly as he smashed aside the brute's iron staff and yanked it away from its owner. Faced by us both, the creature didn't last long enough to resist and even before it hit the ground we set upon the one that had confronted Peter. It spun the stave before itself, effectively blocking our swords as it waited for its fellow to recover from my initial assault. Peter would have none of that and thrust his sword into the sod, rushing our enemy with the stolen staff. He blocked the twirling rod and in one scooping motion forced both staves to the ground. The thing didn't have the sense to let go and Peter was close enough to land a terrific kick to the head, knocking it down long enough for me to finish it off. Never stopping, Peter threw down the staff and ran for his sword, yanking it free of the earth as we turned the tides on the last of Jadis's army. The Fell Beast knew it had no chance and looked about wildly for an escape route.

"Mercy!" it begged in a gravelly voice, dropping to its knees.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

I frowned, disgusted and afraid of what this creature might say to Edmund, what memories or guilt it might kindle. My brother had fought splendidly and I could tell that despite the horrible battle we had just fought, a sea change had come upon him. I did not want that lost. He had been lost for far too long.

Before I could draw breath to speak, Edmund demanded hoarsely, "How much mercy would you and yours have shown us? How much have you shown our land?"

"I am but a slave! I obey my queen!"

"Your queen is dead," snapped Edmund. "Aslan killed her!"

"You served her!" accused the creature, and I mentally kicked myself for allowing a single word to be exchanged.

"To my regret," responded Edmund, panting heavily. His face, his voice, were grave and determined. "I've paid a price, slave. Far greater than you can imagine."

I shuffled closer to it. We had to end this quickly. Now. What if it was stalling us, waiting for reinforcements?

"Ed," I said warningly, drawing my dagger with my left hand. He nodded, understanding.

"Mercy," he said to the sniveling thing before him, deliberately keeping its attention focused on himself, "is for those who would give it. You only speak out of fear of death." He shook his head, every inch King Edmund the Just. "You'll be given the mercy you deserve, the same as you would have given us."

With a savage howl it surged upwards at Edmund and I swung my sword with all my strength. The blade slashed through the creature's leather jerkin and thick skin on its side and back, but that didn't stop its lunge towards my brother. I used my momentum to spin completely around, bringing my left arm across my body. I buried my dagger to the hilt at the base of its neck before sweeping my sword in a backhanded motion that Oreius would have despaired over for a complete lack of form or grace. Nevertheless, it did the trick, and the nameless creature was struck down by my hand.

I stumbled to a halt, almost tripping over the body of the thing I had just slain. I looked around, but Edmund and I were the only ones still standing. My entire body ached and I thought I would never again catch my breath. Nausea slammed down on me as I bent to retrieve my dagger, but I swallowed at the bile in my throat and forced myself to straighten. There was no time for physical reactions, not yet. They were a luxury we could only afford when we were safe again. Edmund searched the ground a bit and found his own dagger as well. Then we stood together, swords ready, as we surveyed the bloody scene before us. Nothing stirred. Even the Trees were still. Rising steam marked where the fallen lay.

"Oreius?" I called, though my throat was so raw I could barely raise my voice. "Celer? Flisk?"

All was dark and stagnant, the air still thick, the surrounding forest deep and threatening. A residue of evil deeds hung over this place. I had no way of gauging how long we had been fighting or even if the fight was over. I saw the point of my sword shake as I trembled. I couldn't recall any time I felt so exhausted in my life. I couldn't even begin to think on how Ed and I had just killed so many beings. Edmund was even worse off than I was, barely able to hold his sword up despite his best efforts. I glanced behind me and was surprised to see we were at the base of the broken steps leading to the remains of the Stone Table. I didn't remember being driven back.


	5. Chapter the Fifth: Knight

Chapter the Fifth: Knight

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

When nothing happened for a few minutes I slowly lowered my sword. We were both breathing in shuddering gasps, filthy and bloody and weakened as our strength ebbed with our alarm. It wasn't until the wind stirred again that Peter slowly eased himself down to one knee, leaning heavily on his sword. I sank down beside him, not even able to kneel, dragged down by the weight of my armor. My ears were ringing and there wasn't a single part of me that didn't hurt. Stupid and numb, I found myself staring at Peter's hands still gripping the pommel of his sword. There was blood and tufts of long, dark hair caught in the fine rings of his gloves.

For a moment I wondered if Father ever felt like this.

Slowly Peter looked over at me. His face was bruised, bloody and spattered with gore, his tabard was shredded, and his cloak was gone. I knew I had to look at least as bad as he did. Somehow he managed to smile at me, trying to get his ragged breaths under control. Tears stood bright in his eyes as he hoarsely managed,

"Well done, Ed."

I gave him a crooked smile, knowing he was relieved beyond words that I was whole and alive. We would react later. Right now, we just accepted the fact that another skirmish had been fought and won. "You too."

He coughed and smiled again. I wanted to thank him for his words, for believing in me so completely and for his absolute trust. He had never doubted that I could guard his back and his confidence had carried us both just as my belief had carried him at Beruna. I was about to speak when suddenly there came a crash of branches and angry shouts as Oreius fought his way through the Trees. Where his flanks were exposed was streaked with foam and bloody scrapes. He whirled, both swords drawn, and it was evident that he had fought as hard as we had.

Peter surged to his feet at the first sound, dragging me up with him. We both sighed and sagged, relieved as the general spotted us. There was shock and anxiety written plainly on Oreius's face and with a thrill I realized the Centaur was terrified for us.

"Oh, thank Aslan," muttered Peter, lowering his sword. With a small groan of pain he put one hand to the back of his head and leaned over.

And that was how I saw the Cougar I had wounded earlier gather himself and leap off the ruins of the Table straight for-

"_Peter!"_

I didn't know I screamed. My body moved of its own accord as my hand closed on my sword. I seized Peter by his tattered tunic with my other hand and thrust him aside. He sprawled, scrambling for his weapon as I lunged at the Cat. The Cougar let out a growl as he leaped, fangs and claws bared. I didn't have time to fully extend my blade and so I turned into those claws, ducking my head down. He had been going for Peter, the taller of us and his teeth overshot my head with a snap! A horrible weight smashed into my back and shoulder, staggering me and knocking the wind out of me. There was no time. The Cougar tried to sink its teeth into my shoulder and met only armor, but its claws were once again working through the mail and into my ribs. I braced the pommel of my sword and stabbed behind me with whatever strength I had left, my voice rising to match the physical effort. The blade sliced through my tabard and slid along the chain mail, guiding it straight past my hip and into the animal's belly. The Cougar shrieked and jerked his head to the side in agony, smacking into my head and sending me reeling. I fell, pain in my neck, in my shoulder and arm. I could hear Peter screaming my name and I was happy, knowing he was alive.

Then darkness.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

"_Edmund!_ _NO!"_

I saw a flash of silver, heard Edmund yell as he twisted about and took a sharp blow to the head. He staggered, the pain-crazed Cougar trying to yank away from him. I had my sword in hand and rushed headlong to my brother's side as he collapsed. I shoved the beast off of him, ready to strike, but it was dead.

"Ed?" I gasped, dropping down beside him. "Edmund?"

I was barely aware of Oreius galloping up. I wanted to be sick as I fell to my knees. I had seen this scene once before and a familiar panic descended on me. I reached for him, afraid to touch him, afraid of knowing. Was he dead? Dying? Oh, Aslan . . . My hands were shaking too hard even to steady him. What would I tell Susan and Lucy?

"He's breathing, King Peter," assured Oreius.

I barely heard him, so intent was I on my brother. I saw Edmund twitch, then he gasped and jerked awake with a wild cry of,_ "Peter!"_ He threw himself upwards, terrified and blind to me right before him. I caught him in my arms and crushed him to me. I couldn't hold him long enough or close enough. I knew I was crying. He held me closer, running his hand through my hair. It comforted me more than I could say.

"Peter. Peter, it's done. It's done," he whispered in my ear, his breath catching. "Are you all right?"

Weary, I nodded and drew back, sniffing as I asked, "You?"

He looked so small. His dark eyes stood out so starkly in his pale face. "Think I sprained my sword arm. It hurts."

"You saved my life."

"And you kept me alive. Side to side and -"

"And back to back," I finished with him, producing a fiercely proud expression upon our general's face.

"Majesties," Oreius pressed, looking us over nervously, "are you injured?"

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

We both shook our heads and Peter said, "I don't think so, Oreius. Not too badly, anyway."

We all looked over as several Fauns and Satyrs fought their way through the brush as Oreius had earlier. I sighed in relief to see Flisk and Phillip with them. Several Dogs followed and began sniffing about as our soldiers hurried over to where we sat by the Stone Table.

"What happened?" I asked.

"It was the Trees, wasn't it?" whispered Peter. His voice was almost gone.

"They thought to isolate you and allow the Fell Beasts to kill your majesties," answered Oreius, a stamping hoof and a flick of his tail sure indicators of his fury. "We all were trapped and fighting our way free. There was no way to reach the Stone Table. Even the Gryphons were snared. There are many Trees here loyal to the memory of the White Witch." He looked over at Celer. I had never seen a Faun look more savage or angry, and the good captain nodded at the general. I glanced at Peter, knowing he had the same thought: we two were the targets, not our party.

"Their time is coming,"Oreius promised severely.

"Soon," added Celer. He seemed to be taking the attack personally. "They have seen first hand how your majesties deal with Narnia's enemies. I suspect few of them will give us much cause for worry."

Peter sat himself next to me. "Did we lose anyone?"

"All have been accounted for, Sire," answered Celer. "Two of the Dogs, Satyr Tandaric, and one of the Cats have been injured. The remaining Centaurs and Cats are sweeping the surrounding area. The Trees, I believe, have given up for now." His voice was sharp and I was heartily glad we were on the same side. Even as he spoke more of our soldiers, including the Gryphons, joined us by the Stone Table.

Oreius leaned far over and a moment later yanked my sword free of the Cougar's corpse. It was covered with blood and hair and who knew what else from the bodies of the dead. Not that I was in much better shape. I found myself making a face and Peter smirked at my expression as I rose to receive the sword from Oreius.

"Clean your sword, Edmund," Peter said firmly.

"Ugh." It was disgusting.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

I watched as Edmund gingerly took the sword in his left hand and I looked to my own blade. My sword was just as dirty as his and I cast about for something to clean it on. Finally, as I had the day I killed Maugrim, I wiped it on the damp grass and dried it with a scrap of my tabard. Edmund followed my example, awkward with his injured arm. I waited at the foot of the platform until he was done polishing the blade with the remains of his cloak, just as Celer had drilled into us, before I spoke.

"Kneel before me," I ordered.

The Narnians recognized what was about to happen and they all drew their weapons, saluting. The Talking Animals drew closer in excitement and approval. Edmund frowned, confused, but for once he obeyed without question. His movements were stiff as he sank down on one knee with his sword held downwards before him. He watched me, still confused, before he suddenly realized what was about to happen. I saw the flash of joy and surprise in his eyes before he bowed his head.

My voice was still shaky and my hands were unsteady. I had to use both hands to hold my sword as I lifted it and slowly touched the tip to his right shoulder, then his left as I said as clearly as I could:

"Rise, Sir Edmund of the How, Knight of the most noble Order of the Table."

Edmund's face blossomed into a smile that was warmer than summer. I felt a rush of pride and love for him. Sheathing my sword, I helped him to stand. I hesitated a moment, then leaned over and kissed him on top of the head only because it looked slightly cleaner than his cheek.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

"Peter!" I groused, much to the amusement of the soldiers around us.

"It's tradition for the king to kiss a new knight," insisted my brother.

I shook my head in disbelief. "Since when?"

"This moment," said the High King with a finality that made the words law. "And just for good measure..." He grabbed my head and kissed me again.

I couldn't take it any longer and I hugged him tightly despite all our aches and pains. A knight. I was a knight. The first of my order. Peter must have made the rank up on the spot, but it was fitting in so many ways and I was so glad it came from him and nowhere else. His pride in me was my greatest treasure. I knew I was grinning like a fool, and all our subjects seemed just as happy as we were. Peter let go, then turned me to face the handful of assembled warriors.

"Noble soldiers of Narnia, faithful and beloved subjects, I give you our brother Sir Edmund of the How, Knight of the Order of the Table."

"Sir Edmund! Sir Edmund! Sir Edmund!" cried the warriors in Narnian tradition, raising their swords. Peter's voice rose hoarsely as well and the Dogs threw back their heads and howled. I blushed, feeling the heat rise in my face, ecstatic and exhausted to such a degree that I was at a loss for words. I saw Phillip toss his head and I knew he was proud, and Oreius actually smiled at me for a moment.

Peter looked to the Centaur. "Oreius?"

"Let us retire from here and tend to our wounded. This place is yet fell, my kings," said he, back to business, "though the only rebels left are the trees. They will be dealt with."

Peter stood beside me and put his arm across my shoulders, holding me close to his side. "Then let's go home."

FIN


End file.
